" The girl's eyes filled. She was breathing hard, dragging for air, half in fright and half because the sudden effort had used up what little air she had managed to draw so briefly. The stretch of red dirt disappeared into a stretch of trees like Van Gogh’s painting. " "Who wouldn't be lively after thirty years' sleep? Did you hear her explain about beachcombers? And yet she looks at one with the straightest glance I ever saw.
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